


Where the Love Light Gleams

by UbiquitousMixie



Category: Major Crimes (TV), The Closer
Genre: Christmas, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 08:06:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UbiquitousMixie/pseuds/UbiquitousMixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharon’s holiday festivities do not go exactly as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where the Love Light Gleams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imustgofirst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imustgofirst/gifts).



> Set in the Major Crimes 'verse. This is a little something that I wrote as a stocking stuffer for imustgofirst and for the Brenda/Sharon Month of Love. I hope you enjoy it…let me know what you think!

Brenda Leigh rushed through her apartment, upending piles of clean clothing and knocking into baskets of unsorted linens in her quest to find her beige sweater. She didn’t strictly need the sweater—she had packed one already, but she really _wanted_ it. It was comforting, though she would never admit to needing the moral support of a sweater to help her through the anxiety-provoking process of meeting her girlfriend’s entire family. 

Her phone buzzed atop the nightstand, alerting her to the arrival of a text message. “I know, I know!” Brenda shouted at the phone as she lifted the comforter to look under the bed. “I’m late—I know!” She knew that it was Sharon, and she knew that she was supposed to have already been in the car on her way to the condo by now. Sharon would be furious—in her way—if Brenda was later than usual because of a damn sweater. 

Giving up on the bed, the blonde scurried into the bathroom again, where she heaved a sigh of relief to find the cashmere sweater hanging on the hook beneath her towel. It was slightly damp now, but it would have plenty of time to dry in her suitcase. 

She slowed her frantic pace as she headed back into the bedroom, where her phone buzzed again. She frowned. Two text messages back to back? Brenda was going to be in the doghouse—and on Christmas Eve, no less. Next year she would know better than to save her packing for the same morning of her flight. She tossed the sweater in the direction of her suitcase and picked up her phone, hoping to reassure Sharon that she was indeed on her way, and would even meet her at the security gate of the airport if it would shave off a little extra time—even if it meant paying for long-term parking. 

If that wasn’t love, Brenda didn’t know what was. 

As soon as she activated the touch screen, Brenda’s shoulders drooped. There were two messages—one from Sharon, and one from Rusty. 

Sharon’s read: _All flights have been grounded due to the blizzard. Nothing is flying out of LAX today and conditions into Utah are too dangerous to attempt to drive._

Rusty’s was a little less restrained: _Sharon is seriously bummed. You’re still coming, right?? I hope you are, because I have no idea what I should do here._

Brenda tapped out a few quick replies to each of them, assuring them both that she was on her way. It may have been a little white lie—there were a few more things that she needed to do before she left. 

\- 

Rusty had never seen Sharon like this, and it was beginning to freak him out. Sure, he had seen her disappointed before, but never to this extent. Christmas was, like, _really_ important to her—moreso than it had ever been to him. Despite the fact that the holiday failed to hold the same meaning to him, he had been starting to look forward to the perfect holiday she had been talking about and scrupulously planning for weeks. It shouldn’t have surprised him, then, that a random blizzard would keep them from reaching Sharon’s family in Park City on time. 

Talk about shitty timing—both Brenda and Sharon’s workloads had prevented them from leaving any earlier than Christmas Eve, but a blizzard happening on top of that? 

And people said global warming didn’t exist. Ha!

He watched her in the kitchen, her movements lacking the enthusiasm they’d had just hours before. She’d been keeping a close eye on the weather, and with each update of worsening conditions, she became a little more subdued. Now, as she was finishing the gingerbread cookies she had been planning on bringing to her kids, Rusty could tell that Sharon Raydor was thoroughly depressed. 

He should say something, or do something, but he had no idea what. Sharon had confided that it had been a few years since the family had been all together in Park City at her parents’ timeshare. How could he possibly make her feel better about the fact that she would probably not be able to get there until the 26th? 

“Hey, Sharon—“ His voice cracked a little, and he coughed into a closed fist. “Look, I’m sorry about this crazy blizzard thing. This sucks.” 

She turned, giving him a smile that he instantly recognized as forced. “There’s no need for you to be sorry, Rusty. We can’t control the weather.” 

“I know, but—“ 

“It’s fine. Really.” She turned back to the cooling rack, upon which she was carefully frosting a cookie. 

Rusty’s frown deepened. He knew enough girl-speak to know that “fine” definitely meant “not fine at all,” but he knew better than to push it. Instead, he reached into his pocket and reread Brenda’s text message, just to make sure that she was still coming. If he couldn’t cheer her up, certainly Brenda could. 

Right? 

“Will you keep an eye on the batch that’s in the oven for me? I’m just going to make a few phone calls.” She wiped her hands on the towel and gave him another wan smile before drifting listlessly out of the kitchen. 

Rusty sighed. It made his chest hurt to see her like this. He shuffled over to the oven—four minutes left on the timer before the rest of the cookies came out. He resigned himself to watching over the oven like one of those guards outside of Buckingham Palace, as if performing this duty could make all the difference. 

He glanced down at the cooling rack. Each little gingerbread man had a cheerful smile except for the last one. That cookie was frowning. 

Rusty’s expression drooped to match the gloomy little cookies. 

This was definitely not good. 

\- 

A desperate little pang tugged at Sharon’s heart, and she sighed, rubbing her chest as if she could ease away the ache that had settled there as soon as she had realized she would not be flying to Utah that day. Her children and parents had been cajoling and sweet for her benefit, though their efforts were far from comforting. It had almost made it worse—she knew they were just as disappointed, and there were few things worse than disappointing her children. 

She knew it was silly to be so upset, and yet the tears prickled in her eyes anyway. Being powerless was an unbearable feeling. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She would get to Park City. She would be with her family. It just wouldn’t be on Christmas. The day itself didn’t matter, but the idea of it did. She had built up this day to astronomical proportions, filled with the sense of promise of being with her entire family—including its two newest members. This Christmas was especially important because it would be the first time her parents and children would meet Brenda and Rusty. She couldn’t remember when she’d been so excited about the holidays. 

Sharon prided herself on her planning prowess; she had managed each hour of their holiday trip to include every memorable holiday tradition, from skiing to making snowmen to baking cookies to drinking eggnog and singing carols. The thought of involving Brenda and Rusty in these festivities had revitalized Sharon to a point of near-euphoric joy—and knowing that the holiday would not go as imagined left her feeling completely deflated. 

She heard a far away knock, followed by voices in the hall. She could hear the faint, familiar twang of Brenda’s voice, and she smiled. However reassuring it was to know that Brenda had still come despite the change in plans, it could not overrule the fact that they should have been at the airport already, waiting in line at security and quibbling over the necessity of keeping their liquids separated.

The captain knew that she should go out into the hall to greet her girlfriend, but she couldn’t muster the energy to put on a smile that she simply didn’t feel. Her phone hummed on the bedspread beside her, and after a moment she looked down at the viewscreen. It was another text from Ricky. _Family vote—unanimously agreed that we’ll wait on gifts and Xmas dinner until you all get here. Don’t argue. We’re not having Xmas until you arrive. Gramps even locked away the Xmas albums._

She chuckled—she could just see her 87-year-old father locking up the Kenny Rogers and Bing Crosby with the whiskey. She could clearly see her mother saran-wrapping the pre-cooked delicacies and her son organizing a vote and her daughter checking the expiration date on the eggnog. The text was meant to cheer her up, but it only made her feel guilty and sad and downright mopey. She felt, rather foolishly, that she had ruined everyone’s Christmas. 

Completely against her will, a tear rolled down her cheek. 

-

Rusty shoved his hands into his pockets, watching Brenda closely as she deposited her suitcase against the wall and gingerly set her purse on the dining room table. She shrugged off her gold jacket and he took it from her to hang it up, just to have something to do to work off his nervous energy. 

“How are you, Rusty?” she asked when he returned from the foyer. 

He shrugged. “Fine, I guess. I’m really worried about Sharon.” 

“I gathered, by all twelve of your texts.” Brenda frowned. “Where is she?” 

He nodded toward her bedroom. “She’s been in there for a while now. I’m not really sure how to cheer her up.” 

The petite blonde placed a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, bless your heart. It’s not your job to cheer her up, Rusty.” 

He gave her a wary look. “So you’re gonna do it then?” 

“Sharon will be fine. Plans change all the time…it’s not like we can’t go at all. It’ll just be a day or two late.” Brenda stared down the hall, twisting her lips as she deliberated whether or not to check on the captain. 

“Jeez, Brenda…” Rusty said with a sigh, slumping onto the sofa. “That’s a little insensitive, don’t you think?” 

“I don’t know about that,” Brenda replied. “I get disappointed when things don’t go the way I want them to, but everythin’ has a way of workin’ itself out.” 

The teenager’s heart sank. So much for his hopes of Brenda saving the day. She could shoot a serial rapist/murderer, but she couldn’t fix Christmas? He let out a lofty sigh. 

“We can’t push her. Tellin’ someone to stop bein’ disappointed isn’t gonna work. That’s like tellin’ me to not be sad that I’m out of ding dongs.” 

“I think this is a little bigger than junk food.” He thought of Sharon’s heartbroken face. “This isn’t like her. This is a _big deal_.” 

“She’s gonna be okay, Rusty,” Brenda said again, patting him on the arm. “I’ll go talk to her.” 

He nodded, though he was skeptical. He really wanted this to be a good Christmas. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had one—had he ever had one? How could it possibly be a decent Christmas if Sharon were wishing she were with her own kids? How could a lame holiday in the condo possibly compare to what she had dreamt up? 

He curled his hands into fists and shoved them into his sweater. This sucked so much more than the protective detail and the trial that never ended. 

The heels clipping down the hall paused before returning to the living room. Rusty looked up in alarm. “What’s wrong?” 

Brenda screwed up her lips again in thought before sitting down beside him. “I know I said we couldn’t cheer her up, but I may have an idea or two…” Her eyes twinkled, and Rusty couldn’t help but smile. 

“Lay ‘em on me.” 

The blonde bent her head closer in a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, how good are you with a computer?” 

He grinned. “Are you kidding? What do you think I do when I’m stuck in the house all day?” 

“Good. Now, here’s what I’m thinkin’…”

-

Brenda listened at the door for a moment, gauging whether or not Sharon was on the phone. It was eerily quiet, and Brenda wondered if the other woman had fallen asleep. She quickly dismissed the notion—Sharon was not a napper. She tapped gently on the door. “Sharon? Can I come in?” 

“Yes.” 

Sharon was sitting cross-legged on her bed, her shoulders hunched as she toyed with the cell phone in her hands. Brenda had never seen the other woman looking so completely forlorn. She crossed the room in a few short strides, crawling onto the bed so that she could wrap her arms around her girlfriend’s shoulders. “Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” 

Sharon shrugged, but curled her arms around Brenda’s waist. “It’s beyond our control.” 

Brenda rubbed her hands across Sharon’s back, just the way she liked it when she was feeling tense or stressed. She gave a little chuckle. “I know just how much you love when things are beyond your control. We’ll get to Park City, darlin’. We’ll have a wonderful Christmas, even if it’s a few days late. You, me, an’ Rusty will make the most of bein’ here at home. I know it’s not the same, but it’ll still be nice to be together, won’t it?” 

Sharon nodded, nuzzling her nose against Brenda’s throat. She inhaled, and Brenda could feel the smile against her neck. “You smell like a candy cane,” Sharon pointed out. 

Brenda laughed. “I’m glad you noticed—I got it just for you. I thought it might be festive.” 

Sharon pulled back and studied Brenda’s face. “You bought peppermint body wash for me?” 

The blonde nodded, her curls bouncing against her shoulders. “Mmhmm. God is in the details, my daddy’ll say.” 

“I didn’t think Christmas meant all that much to you.” 

“Y’know, it never used to. With Fritz, it always felt a little forced. You can’t _force_ holiday cheer. Made me grumpy. I always took it for granted…I guess I thought that if I didn’t have time for Christmas, there’d always be the next one to make up for it.” A swell of emotion burned at the back of her throat, and her eyes welled with tears. “Now my mama’s gone, an’ there’s not ever gonna be another of her Christmas dinners or her silly Santa vests or any of it. It took losin’ her to realize that I don’t wanna waste any more time.” 

She’d been fighting this sadness for months, actively trying to avoid the verbal acknowledgment of her mother’s passing and how greatly the loss had impacted her. It was her first Christmas without Willie Rae. She would have given anything to have just one more holiday, where she didn’t fuss about her case or avoid her parents’ clinging affections. She wanted a chance to do it right, just one more time. But her mother was never coming back, and she’d never have the chance to do better with her. She could, however, get it right this year, and she was determined to do so. She blinked, and a few tears rolled down her cheeks. 

“Oh Brenda,” Sharon said, her voice choked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…I got so caught up in my disappointment that our plans had changed that I didn’t stop to think about what this meant for you, or Rusty. God, how _selfish_ ,” she added with disgust. “My family is still intact and I’ve been acting as if waiting two lousy days was the end of the world.” 

“It’s all right to be sad. There’s no use beatin’ yourself up over it. You take all the time you need.” She kissed the top of Sharon’s head, running her fingers through her hair. 

“When did you become so good at all of this?” 

Brenda laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m tryin’. I wanna have all of this with you. It’s new for me, wantin’ it this much…so I don’t wanna let a little delay get in the way of us enjoyin’ ourselves.”

The blonde let out a little squeak of surprise when Sharon cupped her cheeks and pulled her into a kiss, though she eagerly welcomed the embrace. She could taste that Sharon had cried, but there was no sadness in this kiss. This kiss was the best kind because it was filled with love and promise. Sharon stroked her tongue playfully against Brenda’s before pulling back, looking incredibly appealing with glistening, wet lips. “What was that for?” Brenda asked, breathless. 

“I just love you.” Sharon fingered a strand of Brenda’s hair. “Will you forgive me for being so selfish?” 

Brenda scoffed. “Now you _are_ bein’ silly if you think you need to be forgiven.” She kissed her girlfriend’s cheek. “What do you say about comin’ into the livin’ room? I’ve got a surprise for you and Rusty.” 

“A surprise?” Excitement glimmered in Sharon’s eyes, and the sight of it warmed Brenda completely.

“Mmhmm. C’mon.” She held out her hand. 

To Brenda’s delight, Sharon took the offered hand and allowed herself to be pulled up off the bed. 

-

Sharon followed Brenda into the living room, where they found Rusty standing in front of the couch with a small plate. He paused, a half-eaten gingerbread cookie inches from his mouth. “Um…okay, I thought you’d be in there longer.” He dropped the cookie on the plate. “I’m just eating the grumpy one.” 

The captain couldn’t find it in herself to be angry with him. Brenda, however, swatted at Sharon’s arm. “You made grumpy gingerbread cookies??” she questioned, horrified. 

Sharon shrugged sheepishly. “Purely unconscious on my part.” She nodded her head toward Rusty’s snack. “Go on—finish it. How are they?” 

He smiled. “Delicious.” 

Reassured, Sharon sat down in the armchair. “When you’ve finished, Brenda has a surprise for us.” She clasped her hands in her lap, tampering down her anticipation. 

The blonde smiled. “It’s not anythin’ special.” 

“I’m ready!” Rusty said through a mouthful of cookie. He hustled into the kitchen to rinse off his plate and deposit it directly into the dishwasher. He rushed back into the living room to sit at “his end” of the sofa, leaving the other end—the one closest to Sharon’s armchair—open to Brenda. 

“Well, there are two things,” Brenda began, retrieving her purse from the dining room table. She carried it with such careful consideration that Sharon wondered if the other woman were carrying the crown jewels. 

“First—okay, this is silly, but I thought…” The chief investigator opened her purse and pulled out a very childlike, handmade angel. “You’ve already got a thousand of these, but this one is _mine_ …” She held out the tree-topper and showed it to both Rusty and Sharon. “This is my angel, Keith. I made him when I was a lil girl…my mama always put it on the tree, and after she died, my daddy gave it to me so I’d have a little piece of her for Christmas.” She sniffled. “I thought maybe I could keep it here for our Christmas as a…well, as a family.” 

Sharon’s heart swelled with love. “Oh, Brenda…” She reached out and clutched Brenda’s hand. She could see that the outpouring of sentiment was still an uncomfortable experience for her girlfriend. “We’d be honored to have Keith.” 

“Your angel’s name is Keith, huh?” He caught Sharon’s stern glare and corrected, “It’s cool. Sharon says you can never have enough angels, so it’ll be in good company.” 

“Where should we put him?” 

“I think there’s only one place for him.” Sharon gingerly took up the angel, crossing over to her glowing, picture-perfect Christmas tree. With a little maneuvering, she took down her ornate tree-topper and replaced it with Brenda’s. “There. Perfect.” 

Brenda beamed proudly to see her angel in the most coveted position in the home. “Aww…remind me to take a picture later to send to my daddy.” She cleared her throat. “All right. Second surprise.” She opened her purse a little wider and pulled out two engorged stockings. 

The stocking she handed to Rusty was a deep blue, his name written in gold lettering. To Sharon, she handed a stocking that was purple, her name also written in gold. 

Sharon momentarily lost her breath, stunned to imagine that the same single-minded former deputy chief was responsible for such a thoughtful gesture. “Oh, sweetheart…these are beautiful. Where did you find these?” She fingered the gold lettering, eyeing Rusty’s similarly shocked expression. 

“There’s this website Andrea told me about…eatsy? I found ‘em on there. They personalized them with your names but I filled them.” 

“Etsy?” Rusty corrected. 

“Whatever,” Brenda dismissed before impatiently adding, “Now, aren’t you gonna look inside?” 

-

Rusty blinked as he held the heavy stocking in his hand, staring at it as if he’d never seen one before. He _had_ seen a stocking before—he had just never received one. He and his mother had shared such small, meager Christmases together that for much of his childhood, he had assumed that everyone celebrated the holiday that way. It had never occurred to him to make such a big deal of it the way Sharon did, and it felt completely foreign to him to have been so openly welcomed into Sharon’s family. 

He’d been thinking a lot about it, especially after his talks with Dr. Joe. He felt guilty looking forward to a Christmas with a different Sharon and her family and her girlfriend—but the more he evaluated it, the more he forgave himself for wanting to be a part of a family during a time of year that was devoted to love and togetherness. It was strange and overwhelming to him, but Rusty was _happy_. 

“Go on, Rusty,” Brenda urged with excitement. 

He noticed that Sharon had already begun digging into her own stocking, and so he reached a hand into the bulging stocking with anticipatory glee. He pulled out handfuls of candy, gum, a toothbrush (“my mama always gave us a new toothbrush to go with all the candy.”), and other various things. Other items were wrapped, like a handheld electronic chess game, an iTunes gift card with an exorbitant amount on it, and an assortment of different card games. He gaped at the pile of goodies and gifts in his lap. 

“I…this is too much, Brenda.” 

“Hardly,” the woman said, squeezing his shoulder. “It’s just a little somethin’ to show you I care.” 

He cleared his throat, the surge of emotion taking him by surprise. “Thank you. Really, this is awesome.” 

“Awesome indeed,” Sharon agreed, tears glittering her green eyes. “You outdid yourself.” 

Rusty watched with avid curiosity as Sharon began putting her gifts back into the stocking, wanting to see what she had gotten. He saw candy and truffles and teas of assorted flavors and a set of paintbrushes and what appeared to be a velvet jewelry box. Once everything had been reassembled, she set the stocking aside and scooted to the edge of her chair, taking up Brenda’s hand in her own and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I love it all.”

He smiled to see them so disgustingly lovey-dovey—it made him feel good to see Sharon so happy, and to know that Brenda had been partially responsible for making her that way. In all the time he had lived with Sharon, he had never felt like a third wheel to their relationship the way he had with his mother and her various boyfriends. He felt like he was wanted, a welcome addition rather than a hindrance. 

He spared a thought for his mother as he popped an orange starburst into his mouth. He wondered where she was and who she was with, and he felt truly sorry that she had bailed on having moments like this with him. She had gone, but Brenda and Sharon had stayed, and he would not take for granted that they had already given him the best Christmas he had ever had. 

-

Sharon stood in the kitchen, adorning the final gingerbread cookie with a large smile. Satisfied that each cookie looked as joyful as she felt, she rinsed her hands and then headed for the living room. It had been oddly quiet while she had been in the kitchen, finishing her baking and ordering their Chinese food, and she discovered why as she rounded the corner. Rusty and Brenda were sitting side by side on the sofa, heads bent conspiratorially as they spoke in hushed voices. 

“What’s going on out here?” Sharon asked, peering at them over the rims of her glasses. 

The two of them sprang apart, smiling as Sharon got a glimpse of exactly what they’d been up to—her parents and children waved emphatically from the computer screen propped between them on the coffee table. 

“Merry Christmas, mom!” cried her daughter, nestled cozily beside her grandmother. The four of them were gathered around the corner of their dining room table, bundled in warm sweaters. 

“Surprised?” Richard asked. “It was all them.” He pointed toward the screen, where Brenda and Rusty sat. 

“You planned this?” 

“Rusty made it all happen,” Brenda graciously stated. “But since we couldn’t be in Park City, we brought Park City to you.” 

Sharon rounded the couch, seating herself in the space cleared by Brenda and Rusty. She curled an arm around each of them and tugged them close. “It feels better than you can imagine to have the whole family together, even when we’re miles apart.” 

“Oh, darling girl, I think we can imagine,” Sharon’s mother agreed. “We can’t wait to have you all here, Sharon. It’ll be just wonderful to finally meet these two important people in your life.” 

“Soon,” Sharon said, her impatience ebbing. She held her girlfriend and her surrogate son a little tighter. 

Sharon’s daughter disappeared and, moments later, Barbra Streisand’s rendition of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” began to play. 

It didn’t matter that they were not all physically in the same room yet—this was becoming one of the best Christmases Sharon had ever had. All of her careful planning and fretting could not have accounted for these beautifully unscripted moments.

\---


End file.
